


Seethe

by BleuWaters



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, not stifling, the two of you are all sorts of protective, you just stick up for each other because you love each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 16:43:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11235051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleuWaters/pseuds/BleuWaters
Summary: Jean Kirschtein x reader. Teenagers are so cruel. You intend to shut a bully up, but Jean beats you to the punch. (Pun unintended until it wasn't)





	Seethe

Jean doesn't get along well with many outside his small group, and you know it quite well. You hear little comments now and then, mean, stabbing comments, comments about Marco, about his death…

They make you _seethe_. They would make Jean seethe, too, if he heard them.

One evening, after a dull supper, you take Jean's and your empty plates up to the kitchen. It's been a long, exhausting day, and all you want to do is give Jean a kiss and go to bed.

“D’you s’pose she's Marco’s replacement?” comes an unsavory hiss, and a bout of sniggers follows.

“Yeah, his best friend dies, so he has to get a girlfriend to kiss his boo-boo.” The voice raises to an obnoxious shout. “I thought that's what mommies are for!”

More giggles as you pause.

“Maybe she _is_ his mommy. I bet they haven't made out. I bet they-”

“You finish that sentence and I'll shove your fork so far up your nose you'll _see_ steel,” you growl ferociously, entirely fed up with the cruelty coming from what should be the safest group of peers within the walls. Slamming the plates onto the table, you lean in close to the idiot that dared cross you, your (e/c) eyes cold and dead serious.

The cadet stands and, boy, does he stand, at least a half foot taller than you. It doesn't even slightly phase you, however, and you hold your intimidating glare.

“Oh really?” he asks, making a show of folding his arms over his chest, sending his pals a grin.

“You wanna take me up on it?” you question. The bully laughs.

“Aw, come on, Mother dear,” he jokes, “Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself.”

You grab him by the collar and back him to the nearest wall, instinct telling you to protect your beloved Jean and shut this guy up.

The kid laughs with delight. “Aww, you're so cute. Wanna go out with me when you're bored of Kirschtein?”

Well, it's not his fork, but the heel of your hand serves its purpose and you hear his nose break when you thrust upwards. An awful part of you feels satisfaction at the sound and the trickles of blood that roll from his nostrils.

The cadets pals pull you off of him and he bites out an unsavory word.

“You little freak!” he exclaims, and you welcome the fierce blow to your jaw.

So you're equals now, huh, when it gets physical?

The strike knocks you clean off your feet, and you land on your rear with a heavy thud. The cadet, brown eyes burning with hatred, steps over to you, pulls his foot back to deliver a kick to your ribcage.

Jean reaches him first, a powerful roundhouse catching the side of the bully’s head, making him lose his balance and stagger a step to the side. Remarkably, he retains his footing, let alone his consciousness, and he spins around to attack his assailant, the snide comments long forgotten in favor of bloodlust.

Jean is a great fighter, far better than this freak, and it only takes three well-placed punches to knock the guy down and get him groaning on the floor, clutching his stomach. He hadn't gone down without getting a good pop to Jean's face in, and he now sports a gushing nosebleed to match his opponent’s perfectly, though his lovely nose is quite intact.

“Stay down!!” he barks angrily, giving the guy’s shoulder a shove with the toe of his boot. His minions have all quietly stepped back to enjoy the show. “If you ever so much as think her name, I'll break both your arms!!” He spits a good spray of saliva onto the floor and the tamed bully.

After pulling Jean away by his trembling hand, you tell him, insist, that you can take care of yourself.

“But you don't have to!” he snaps, tears of rage pricking his eyes. It fuels his fire and he rubs harshly at them.

“Aww…” You smile, flattered beyond belief, and touch his cheek.

“Are you okay?” he snuffles, rubbing a streak of blood across his face when the back of his hand passes beneath his nose. You're quick to pull out your handkerchief and wipe it away.

“I'm fine,” you say sweetly, peering up into his amber eyes, “Are you?”

“They...they put their _hands_ on you,” he grits out, screwing his eyes shut tight, “How am I supposed to deal with that?”

“You don't have to,” you say firmly, using his words against him, “Let's get out of here before we get in trouble.”

“We'll get in trouble anyway,” he mutters, allowing himself to be tugged away from the mess hall.

“Yeah,” you agree, “But at least it won't be around those creeps.”

Punishment can wait for tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write jean beating up someone for messing with his baby. Thanks for reading! Leave kudos and comments if you liked it; let me know!


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